Fix Me
by heartbreakersworth
Summary: Miles felt his grip tighten before he made a split-second decision. He threw it. He threw the damned lighter. His mind was telling him to chase after it, to always keep it in his pocket, but his body was glued to his car's seat. {Drabble from Tumblr I changed around a little bit}
1. Feeling Small

Miles tried to keep Tristan out of the loop. Honestly. But he caught himself falling too quickly for him to realize what was happening, and like any normal human being, he panicked. He panicked and lashed out. Going behind his back and organizing an intervention didn't help either, just as Miles started to trust him, to consider letting him in, it was instantly broken.

"I treat you like absolute garbage and you keep crawling back for more. Why?" Why? Why do you care? Why haven't you left? I am giving you permission to leave. Go. Run. I know you will anyway.

"Are you really that desperate for somebody to love you?" If you've come to me for love, you've hit your lowest low. Damn it, I can't even stand myself. I can't believe in you loving me. I won't. Please. It'll soften the blow for both of us.

Seeing how the tears were beginning to form in Tristan's eyes wasn't helping the situation at all. He was about to crack. Before he knew it, he was walking away from him. The one motherfucking direction he didn't want to go. With no closure, Miles thoughts began to attack. Was he just reaching out? Trying to help? Confusion was overtaking Miles completely. Now Tristan has even betrayed him.

He had asked Tristan not to leave, but now he was walking away himself? Cowardly, but not unlike him. He'd always turn to the worst side of things when it got too hard for him. Always running. Miles threw open the door of his car, climbing in and quickly slamming it. He buried his face in one hand as he started hitting the edge of the steering wheel with the other. He tried to keep the tears from coming out, but it proved to be terribly difficult. He searched his front pocket for a joint, growing more agitated while fumbling until he found it.

Miles took the antique lighter out of his front pocket, staring at it for a second. He felt the grip on it tighten before making a split-second decision. He threw it. He threw the damned lighter. It made a 'clang' sound ring through the entire parking lot when it hit a lamp post. His mind was telling him to chase after it, but his body was glued to the seat of his car. He started fumbling around on his keychain for his car key. The back of his mind was still screaming at him to get up, to grab the lighter, but he repressed it as he backed out of his parking spot.

This wasn't about the lighter anymore, was it?

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><p><strong><span>WS: I honestly didn't feel like continuing this, since it will mostly follow canon events but now I want to and I'm so angry that I want to I can never just write a simple drabble without my muse being like bitch you must write more and you can't ignore me because I'll push back by making you stay up all friggin night with 9 billion ideas.**

**Should I continue this?**


	2. September

_Desperate._

_Pathetic._

_Crawling back._

These words buzzed through Tristan's head over and over. He knew Miles was angry, but his words cut like a knife. He didn't want to believe it, but he couldn't help but think that Miles could've nailed it on the head. He was desperate. He was desperate for one of his romances to not turn to shit, and when he finally was able to trust that this one wouldn't, he jumped all in. He'd stand by Miles no matter what. Maybe he was just allowing Miles to use him as a doormat. At that point, all Tristan wanted to do was run. Run from the person he thought he knew.

But he found himself doing the exact opposite and gathering his books at his locker. Part of him believed that Miles was just angry, perhaps even scared. Most was pulling him in the other direction, telling him to run. But if it was true, and Miles was just scared, he would've ran when Miles needed him most, which was the part that was fueling him to keep walking toward the back entrance.

Something shining in the grass caught his eye, and before he could dismiss it, he realized what it was. He picked up the antique lighter, dusting the dirt off and pocketing it. As he started walking, he felt the soft drizzle of rain patting his head. _Ironic. _He stifled a laugh before practically running to the Hollingsworth manor, the rain pounding down harder with every step he took. He slipped through the entrance that lead to the pool, only to see a dripping wet Miles, sitting on the steps with with his head hanging between his legs.

"Miles!" Tristan yelled over the rain. Miles barely heard, but looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed and face puffy, but he was smirking.

"Crawling back for more, I see." Miles said impulsively, the smirk on his lips curving into a devilish smile. He couldn't keep his filthy fucking mouth shut, ever. He stood up, walking over to Tristan. Tristan stepped back when he started to get too close. The last thing he wanted was to prove Miles right. "What, you didn't have enough when I was practically telling you to run?"

"Why do you want me to leave you so badly?" Tristan questioned, his voice softening a bit. Miles looked everywhere but his face, smiling to hide his eyes glossing over again.

"I'm nothing but bad news, Tristan. All I can do is hurt you." His voice cracked on 'hurt' as if emphasizing how much it hurt having Tristan seeing him like this, on the verge of breaking.

"Yeah, well you know what hurts more?!" He stepped closer to Miles, nearly closing the distance between them. At least the physical distance. "Having you push me away whenever I get closer. Thinking you might trust me, then pushing you away when I get it wrong." Their faces were only inches apart at this point.

"Dammit, Tristan. I just want to.. keep you close to me..."

"So you push me away?!" Tristan asked, the confusion seeping into his words.

"You'd run if you knew..." Miles turned his face away from the blonde.

Tristan touched the brunette's chin, forcing Miles to look up at him. "I haven't ran yet, have I?"

Miles choked, nodding. "We really should get inside..." He said quietly, before pressing his lips against Tristan's. He wanted one kiss just in case. Just in case that was the last.

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><p>Somehow, Miles's head ended up in Tristan's lap as he spilled his entire life out. The soft, constant motion of having Tristan's fingers rake through his hair gave him a sense of comfort, knowing he wouldn't run.<p>

"I'm so sorry, Miles..." Tristan said softly, trying not to choke up. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Stay with me?" Miles asked weakly, turning his head to face Tristan.

"I already told you I wasn't leaving..."

"I mean stay the night. Or a couple of nights. It's not like I can just run... But if you're here, it'll be a lot safer, or at least, I'll feel a lot safer." He muttered.

Tristan gave him a weak smile, nodding. "Alright." His eyes shifted over to their pile of wet clothes that they were still neglecting to dry. "I almost forgot.." Tristan patted Miles's shoulder, making him sit up. He pulled the antique lighter from the pocket of the jeans, plunking it down on Miles's nightstand. "I found this in the parking lot."

Miles took the lighter from the table, gripping it tightly. He pressed his closed fist to his chest, smiling.

"Glad you found it." Miles said in a quiet tone, pulling Tristan into his bed with him. He hugged Tris's back to his chest before crashing them both down on the mattress. Tristan turned to him, a soft smile on his lips. He kissed Miles's forehead lightly before feeling the brunette snuggle into him. Miles never felt so secure and safe in anyone's arms.

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><p><span><strong>shit:<strong>** Huehue. So that was that. I really did want to give the story some closure, since we didn't get shit in 14x09... This is just a short little HISHE. :D I hope you enjoyed.**


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